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Enoch looked up from his book as Horace stormed into the room, rubbing tears from his eyes, and flopping slowly onto the sofa. Enoch sighed, folding the page, and setting the book down. He turned towards Horace and opened his arms. Horace immediately crawled into his embrace.
“What’s wrong?”
“My suits don’t fit anymore. I’m going to have to update my wardrobe again.” Horace moaned.
Enoch chuckled, petting the prophet’s hair. “That means you get to go shopping.”
Horace pouted. “Yes, but not this often. And I’m only going to get bigger and I’m not going to wear any of it after a few months.”
Enoch hid his smile in Horace’s blonde hair. His hand settled on Horace’s soft bump. “Only three more months.”
Leaning into Enoch’s chest, Horace smiled, his hand entwining itself with Enoch’s. “Yeah. Only three more months.”
“Are you hoping for an Alexander or an Alexandra?”
“You know I don’t care. I just want it to be healthy.”
“I love you so much you know.”
“Who knew a baby could turn Enoch O’Conner into a sap.”
“Shut up and say you love me.”
“Of course I love you.”
“Good. It’d be really awkward if you didn’t.”
Horace gazed down at their joined hands resting on his rounded belly. “Yeah it would.”